


You Are The Answer I've Waited For

by aleksrothis



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kneeling, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: It isn't supposed to be a reward but Igor will take anything Lundqvist gives him and be grateful for it.
Relationships: Henrik Lundqvist/Igor Shesterkin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	You Are The Answer I've Waited For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tillyenna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/gifts).



Igor waited patiently in the dark, listening to the approaching footsteps.

The ten game mark was special in the NHL, maybe not so much for a goaltender, who’d dressed for more games than he’d played in, but consistency mattered. Igor had now played his tenth game, just won his ninth, and his heart was still racing with the excitement, beating so loudly he could hardly hear anything else. 

Kreider had been the one to lead him in here blindfolded after the game; who had guided him to his knees where there was a cushioned pad waiting for him. Even so, barefoot and shirtless, wearing only his compression shorts, Igor found himself shivering in the chill of the space, forcing himself to keep his hands resting on his thighs though he almost wanted to wrap them around him.

Igor didn’t know what to expect though he’d heard plenty of rumors and now he heard those footsteps he know what he hoped for. He didn’t know if anyone else was here or even where ‘here’ was but he trusted his team. It wasn’t cold enough to be near the ice but he hadn’t gone up or down any stairs so he must still be in the players’ area.

The footsteps stopped and a gentle hand touched his cheek, fingers sliding under his chin to tip his face up. “Beautiful,” the mystery person said, in accented English.

Igor felt a shiver run through him, as he swallowed hard. He recognized the voice as Lundqvist and wished he wasn’t blindfolded so he could see the expression on the other man’s face. Did he really mean that or was he just saying what he thought Igor wanted to hear?

“Are you going to be good for me?” Lundqvist asked.

Igor nodded vigorously. He would do anything for him; he had idolized the other goaltender since he was a child and he still found it hard to believe sometimes that he was really here, getting to train alongside Lundqvist.

The hand brushed against his mouth and Igor parted his lips easily, letting Lundqvist push his fingers inside. Igor kept his jaw relaxed; as much as he wanted to do more, he hadn’t been given any such instructions. Besides, he would gladly stay here just like this as long as the other wanted.

He forced himself not to protest when Lundqvist withdrew his fingers and was rewarded with the sound of a zipper, the rustle of clothing and then something better than fingers was being pressed against his lips.

Igor opened his mouth further, allowing Lundqvist’s cock entrance. Now he could no longer resist the urge to taste, to run his tongue over the head. He had only had time for a cursory shower after the game and it seemed Lundvist had been the same as he still smelt and tasted of sweat. Even though he hadn’t played, the other goalie had spent those hours in his pads, ready and waiting in case Igor had been incapacitated. 

But he hadn’t been, he’d got the win and now this was his reward. Maybe not officially, Igor didn’t think every player would see it that way, but for him it was. There was no doubt in his mind that Lundqvist was one of the greats and it was an honor to be able to do this for him.

Igor had seen Lundqvist nude in the locker room and so he had thought he knew what to expect but his lips were stretched wider than he had thought possible, and his throat clenched as Lundvist pushed deeper in. Still, he wasn’t exactly a novice at this and Igor allowed himself a moment’s pride as he swallowed around it and Lundqvist’s hand tightened in his hair.

Lundqvist was speaking but Igor didn’t understand the words, whether they were in English or Swedish, and could only trust in the tone to tell him he was doing well.

It didn’t take long until he could feel the strain in his jaw but Igor wouldn’t, he couldn’t pull away until he knew Lundqvist was satisfied. He wished he could see Lundqvist’s face, meet his gaze and know that he wasn’t the only one who felt this connection between them, but he was determined to pass this test, to show how good he could be.

Igor allowed himself to get lost in the sensation, letting Lundqvist use him as he desires. Without his sight, and with no other cues, Igor quickly lost track of time, his mind deaf to the aches of his body. Hadn’t he always belonged here, at Lundqvist’s feet, serving him? 

Lundqvist paused, with only the head of his cock between Igor’s lips. Igor waited, resisting the urge to reach out and pull him back in. He didn’t think he was imagining the tremor in the older man’s fingers as they caught on the fabric of the blindfold before he asked, “Can you keep your eyes shut for me if I take this off?”

Igor couldn’t easily nod so he tried to make an acquiescing sound in his throat. Lundqvist’s cock twitched, a spurt of come on his tongue and Igor forced himself to hold his head steady and swallow.

The blindfold was eased away but Igor kept his eyes squeezed shut, even as Lundqvist ran his fingers over his eyelids, collecting the dampness from his eyelashes. It took every bit of his willpower not to open them, to see the expression he was certain was on Lundqvist’s face.

Then Lundqvist slid the other hand into Igor’s hair, holding him tightly in place, and pushed back in. Igor had to dig his nails into his legs to keep his hands in place and eyes shut as he allowed Lundqvist to use his mouth.  
When Lundqvist came it was without any warning, just a burst of warm liquid on Igor’s tongue. He wanted to savor the sharp salt taste, but he had to keep swallowing before any escaped. Even so, as Lundqvist pulled away, he felt a trickle run down his chin before the older goalie caught it with a finger and pressed it back into his mouth.

Igor was achingly hard, and he was sure it must have been obvious to Lundqvist. He could almost feel the weight of Lundqvist’s gaze taking him in and Igor hoped for more but he didn’t say anything and Lundqvist didn’t either. 

Instead, after a minute or so of silence where Igor longed to open his eyes, there was only a sharp breath before Igor heard the sounds of Lundqvist dressing.

Igor was suddenly desperate for the evening not to be over. “Please, sir, don’t leave-,” he begged, “-not yet.” The English words tripped on his tongue as he reached out, fingertips brushing against the wool of Lundqvist’s suit pants. 

That sharp breath came again before Lundqvist stepped back out of reach. There was a long silence and Igor prayed to whichever gods were listening that he wouldn’t leave. It wasn’t enough. 

“Count to twenty,” Lundqvist told him steadily, as though Igor hadn’t spoken. “Then you can open your eyes and are free to go.”

Igor bit his tongue to hold back his pleas, knowing this wasn’t the right time. He listened to the footsteps heading away and, as soon as he reached twenty, he blinked his eyes open.

He looked around, finding himself in what must be one of the therapy rooms, with all the furniture pushed back against the walls. The door was open, showing the empty side corridor. He could try to follow but what would that achieve? Even if Lundqvist was waiting just around the corner he wouldn’t stay to talk.

Besides, Igor couldn’t wait any longer to jerk off, pushing his shorts down just far enough to wrap a hand around his cock. It took barely an handful of strokes before he was coming, spilling desperately over his fingers and the tiled floor at just the memory of Lundqvist’s touch and his tight control; even if Igor knew he had tested it, it had held. 

Next time - and there would be a next time - Igor wouldn’t let him get away.


End file.
